


Ozoner

by whereareyoucas



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Actor Charles, Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles is a Tease, Coffee Shops, Director Erik, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-16 18:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3498128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereareyoucas/pseuds/whereareyoucas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is an indie movie director, Charles is an actor. Erik wants to make the perfect movie, drink coffee and keep people from getting too close. After a chance meeting, his fourth want in life is Charles Xavier. <br/>But there are two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, the other is getting it - Oscar Wilde</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is my first multichap for x-men, I hope you enjoy!  
> Eternal thanks and blood-debt and gratitude go to my beta Not_Of_Import  
> and thank /you/ for reading:))

“Stop, stop, you’re doing it completely wrong, start again,” Erik reprimanded through a loudspeaker. Of course he didn’t actually need a loudspeaker: he was sat in his director’s chair just a dozen feet away from Shaw, the actor he was verbally abusing. Shaw’s nostrils flared as he turned away from Erik, taking a deep breath, before taking his mark again.

“Get your coat, we’re-”

“Stop. You’re supposed to be hateably likable, not likably hateable!” Erik interrupted, the speaker setting everyone’s teeth on edge. “Again.”

“That’s it. This is bullshit, I quit.”

Erik smirked at the fuming actor. “You can’t quit.”

Erik continued to smirk as Shaw stormed out the room. He waited a couple seconds after the door slammed behind him, and then a couple more seconds before he realised that he wasn’t coming back. “Shit.” He turned to Emma. “Can he?”

“He just did, sweetheart,” she replied boredly.

 

*-*-*

 

He stopped and stared at the amber liquid in his glass for a moment. Probably longer than a moment. He’d been hunched over the bar for so long that the bartender had changed over, not that Erik had taken much notice. He’d been too preoccupied with glaring at his drink, which was why he jumped when the new bartender spoke to him.

“Whiskey, like a beautiful woman, demands appreciation. You gaze first, then it’s time to drink,” the new bartender senunciated with an English accent, then added cheekily, “Or a beautiful man of course.”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the consequent eyebrow-waggle of the bartender. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer him up with a joke, or was genuinely using awful literary quotes to chat him up. Either way, it had neatly broken his trance, and Erik took the chance to order another whiskey.

“You must be having a truly awful day,” the bartender commented, refilling the drink and then leaning on the counter as Erik huffed in agreement. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Pff,” Erik giggled. “Really? The bartender wants to know my problems?” The cliché tickled him, but the bartender just smiled and nodded encouragingly. Lucky for him, his smile was adorable and Erik’s tongue was loosened by the alcohol, otherwise there’d be no way in hell he’d confide his troubles to a bartender. It helped a lot that the bartender was attractive as hell too. “Fine, whatever. The main lead for my film has quit, two days into filming, so I’ve had to call for emergency auditions tomorrow morning because we’re already behind schedule. ‘Nd they’re all gonna be shit.” With that, he necked his whiskey, not bothering to stare into it this time. He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he put his glass back down heavily, the bartender’s eyes had brightened considerably.

“What a fantastic coincidence, my friend. I’m actually an actor,” he smiled.

“Fuck, isn’t that a massive cliché? Bartender with dreams of the silver screen?” Erik half-slurred doubtfully.

“It seems my life is one big cliché. My name’s Charles.”

“Erik.”

“So, where’s your accent from?”

Charles continued to talk and flirt with Erik for a while, and Erik slowed down his drink consumption slightly so as to remain semi-articulate. Erik told Charles he was from Germany originally. It turned out Charles was American, but had picked up his English accent from his uni days there. It was pleasant, light conversation, but there was an elephant in the room.

“Ok, I’m just going to have to come out with it. I hope I’m not being too brash but,” Charles started. For a moment Erik wished really hard that he was going to say something sexually brash. Like, want to come back to my place and we can fuck all night? But of course he wasn’t going to. “Can I audition for your film? That is, if I’m suitable?”

Erik sighed and considered it. If Charles was stuck working a bar, how good could he really be? Plus he seemed way too happy-go-lucky to be the in-your-face punk lead he needed. But Charles curled his hand round Erik’s wrist and smiled warmly, and Erik thought fuck it. He was drunk, Charles was interested, what’s the harm in letting him come to the audition? He doesn’t have to say yes after all. It wasn’t leading him on, really. Right?

“Okay, fine.”

Charles looked like an excited puppy. Erik wrote the details down on a napkin for him, and then asked what time his shift ended. Charles checked his watch.

“Half an hour, why?” he asked knowingly.

Erik smiled into his last drink of the night. “Just wondering.”

For the next thirty minutes, Erik sat at the bar, distracting Charles from his work as much as possible, not that Charles was really resisting him. The moment someone came to relieve Charles of his shift, the two of them were off to Charles’ car. Erik sat in the front passenger seat eagerly directing the way to his block of apartments.

The sense of immediacy continued all the way there; they could barely wait till they got out of the car to start kissing and touching each other. They managed to get into Erik’s apartment and fall onto his sofa before stripping and fucking in the dark. It didn’t exactly last all night, but it was more than good enough for Erik. After an amazing climax, Erik huffed and kissed Charles softly before falling asleep with his arms around him. Maybe it was because he was inebriated, or maybe it was just because he wanted someone to hug for the night after such a shit day, but it felt good. Well, more good than most of his one-night-stands went. Usually he’d chuck them out pretty soon after the deed was done, because he was an asshole. It was just because he was drunk, honest. And so- so sleepy.


	2. 2

The next morning, Erik paid for all that whisky. Not monetarily, or at least not all of it because it seemed Charles had sneakily opened up a tab for him, but with the worst hangover ever. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he laid there, feeling two-thirds dead. He heard his phone vibrate from the back pocket of his jeans that were on the floor out of arm's reach. After psyching himself to move for a few minutes, Erik sat up and begrudgingly retrieved his phone, if only to make the hammering noise of it stop. 6 messages, 7 missed phone calls. Shit, it was just past 2pm, he had forty-five minutes to get ready and then drive down to the studio where the emergency auditions were being held. Shit.

He stumbled around the apartment, half dressed and fumbling to gather his things and make a coffee when he noticed a note on the kitchen counter. He stopped his mad rush to read it.

 

> _“Busy old fool, unruly Sun,_
> 
> _Why dost thou thus_
> 
> _Through windows and through curtains call on us?”_
> 
> _i.e apologies I had to leave so early, but I’ll see you at the audition! Charles xoxo_

 

Ergh. Poetry and an ‘xoxo’. The memories of the bartender and their… night of passion came flooding back to him. But he couldn’t stand in the kitchen bashing his head against the cupboard for his stupidity now, he had no time; he’d have to do it on the way to the studio.

He kept the promise to himself and as soon as he started driving to the studio he berated himself. Last night was such a show of bad judgement. No, wait: it wasn’t bad judgement, it was no judgement, his judgement had been washed away with that sixth glass of whiskey… or seventh or possibly eighth. Shit. What if Charles thought that sleeping with him would guarantee him the job? What if that was the _only_ reason he slept with him? What if he’d sealed this verbal contract with a kiss, and Charles would fully expect Erik to comply? Of course he did, why else had he been so eager to get into his bed! Erik was a director, and Charles was an actor waiting for his big break. Of course he thought sleeping with Erik would be that big break. He said his life was one big cliché after all. Drunk Erik was manipulative. Jeez, Emma was going to punch him so hard when she hears about this. And then what if he had a union? What if he told them-

No. Erik was getting hysterical. He was in trouble, but not that much. The worst case scenario would be that Charles makes a scene, making it super awkward for everyone. Because he wasn’t going to get the part. Erik knew he wasn’t going to be right for the part. He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot. Maybe Charles wouldn’t even turn up, Erik thought with a glimmer of hope.

But of course he was there.

As soon as Erik entered the room (he had to get to the audition room through the waiting room unfortunately) Charles was in there, and waving at him. Erik gave a small, guilty wave back, although he hoped it looked bored rather than friendly, and continued on the hunt for the coffee machine. Which, of course, was also in the waiting room. He stood by the machine as it started slowly filling the polystyrene cup. Why was it taking so long? Don’t come over don’t come over don’t-

“Good afternoon, I just needed to say,” Charles started suddenly, talking quickly and quietly into his ear, and making Erik jump for a second time. “I didn’t sleep with you last night because you’re a director. That would be shallow of me. I slept with you because you’re very attractive, and I thought you’d be great in bed. Turns out I was right,” Charles punctuated this with a charming grin and a wink. Erik couldn’t stop his lips lifting in a smirk no matter how much he tried. “So, please, don’t feel obligated to give me the job because of last night; I’d prefer to get in on my talent. Thanks, see you in there.”

And with that, the voice was gone. Erik turned around to watch Charles walk back across the room with a slightly stunned expression - stunned at the actor’s sheer cockiness. He hated to admit it, but he loved it. Plus, Charles was still just as attractive as he was when Erik was drunk, so, all in all, well done to himself. Charles was hot, and he had a strangely likable personality, which just meant that he had to be a shit actor. There was no such thing as a good actor with good looks and good personality. The only jobs Charles would get would be through sleeping with people, Erik was sure. He was being harsh, he knew, but he was used to being harsh in his job.

Erik finally got nestled at the audition table in between Emma, his producer, and Moira, the co-leading star. They didn’t need a casting director- Erik was so anal about his film that he had to be his own casting director. The main director, casting director, and he’d even tried to take some of Emma’s producing duties. He’d dodged out of hiring a director of photography, because he didn’t trust anyone with his vision, and he’d even skipped hiring a lawyer. That was more of an issue of budget and pride, though. Erik was fine with admitting that he was a total arse to work with. But his co-workers seemed to manage, most of the time.

Auditionees began to be waved through soon after he’d sat down. There were seven people, Charles being the last on the list, having only been added this morning. Emma, Erik and Moira unanimously hated four of the auditionees. They sucked, to put it frankly. Two of them were alright, but alright was not what they were looking for in a leading role. Finally, it was Charles’ turn to come in. Before he was in earshot, Moira turned to whisper to him.

“I was talking to him in the waiting room. He’s so nice! Well done for getting him so last minute.”

Erik grunted in response, and bluntly told Charles to begin his performance once he’d got to the mark in the centre of the room.

He was… perfect. At least according to Emma and Moira. Charles finished the audition with an angelic smile and a small bow, the antithesis to the role he’d just portrayed. Somehow, Charles had transformed into the aggressive, hedonistic main character that the film needed, the mononymous Station, yet remained likable. Emma and Moira even went as far as to give him a tiny round of applause, to Charles’ delight and Erik’s slight horror.

“So tell us about your last acting job,” Moira asked warmly.

“Ah, of course. It was in an advert for-”

“That’s fine, we have it on your résumé thanks, bye,” Erik interrupted. That got him a sharp nudge in the ribs from Moira.

“You can wait outside, honey,” Emma smiled.

“No he can’t, no you can’t, wait for a call like everyone else. Go home and wait for a call,” Erik said firmly, this time receiving the nudge in the ribs from Emma.

“Ok, thank you. It was nice meeting you, Moira and Emma,” Charles said, and then at last exited. Erik could finally breathe again. He felt so hot in the face. His two fellow ‘judges’ turned on him immediately.

“Are you trying to scare off the new lead already?” Emma asked incredulously.

“He’s not the new lead.”

“He’s perfect, and so cute,” Moira said, to a noise of agreement from Emma. “I just want to-”

“Don’t need to know, Moira,” Erik said.

“We’ve found the perfect person, Lehnsherr. I thought you’d be more happy,” Emma pointed out.

“HE’S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ENGLISH,” Erik exploded suddenly. He stood up to get some air.

Emma flipped through his résumé. “It says here he can do American, Scottish, Cockney… and, besides, I thought the English accent gave it a nice twist. You never specified that Station had to be American.”

“Don’t you like him, boss?” Moira questioned.

“Just give me a second to think,” Erik said, effectively shushing the two women. They assumed he was having an ‘artist’ contemplative moment, picturing Charles as his new lead, and how he’d fit into Erik’s careful creation. Instead, he was thinking: a-h-h fuck. Charles was perfect for the role, it was true. It was just that Erik had never even considered he’d be good for the role. What if people found out he slept with him? The press would go crazy for that. It would be so unprofessional, although it would seem he’d been exclusively unprofessional over the past day or two. There were so many issues, mostly personal… but Charles was perfect. The more Erik pictured Charles as Station, the lead character, the more difficult it was not to give in.

“Lehnsherr?” Emma probed carefully.

“Fine. Fine we’ll have him. Call him whenever,” Erik conceded, only scowling slightly.

“I’m not your secretary,” Emma reminded him.

“No, wait, I’ll call him. You can call the rest of them and tell them that they sucked and will never achieve their dreams.”

Emma rolled her eyes, not bothering to repeat herself.

“No, wait. I’d love to tell them that, you can go home.”

Erik walked to his car slowly. He had to let Charles know today, because of how soon filming was going to resume. He needed to let him know now, ideally. Erik sighed deeply, and leaned against his car bonnet. He went through his contacts (he had a hunch that Charles had put his phone number in last night) and called him.

“Hey. It’s me.”

“Hello, Erik.”

“It’s about the audition, I’m-”

“Wait, wait. I want to hear this in person, if that’s alright with you. Can you meet me at the coffee place on High Street in about an hour?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Cocky bastard. He knew he got the job.

So Erik drove home and tried to twiddle his thumbs until it was time for him to go meet Charles, but instead of doing nothing, he ended up having another shower, and doing his hair, and even considering his clothes choice for a second.

What are you doing? he asked himself. This wasn’t a date. He was going to go tell his new employee he got the job. This is just business now. Erik wasn’t going to make any more unprofessional mistakes. He took the business very seriously. Which was why it was fine for him to try and look smart...

Finally, it was time for his meeting with Charles. He sat in the café with an espresso, waiting expectantly. Charles was five minutes late, and when he came in, Erik stood up to be polite. Charles took the opportunity to lean in and kiss Erik. At first Erik planned to not kiss him back, but he couldn’t help it. He melted into the kiss willingly. He told himself that this was the last one he’d get with Charles, so he should enjoy it while he can. Obviously he seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much because the woman a couple of seats away from him was clearing her throat loudly.

Charles found this quite amusing, to the chagrin of Erik. Maybe he shouldn’t have let himself get so carried away. He was sure his cheeks had gone pink.

“So,” Erik began.

“So.”

Erik gazed at Charles’ knowing countenance. “You got the job. Well done.”

“Thank you,” Charles grinned. Erik wondered how his cheeks didn’t ache from so much smiling.

“You did great, and my colleagues and I thought you were perfect for the role,” Erik said, avoiding eye contact. He was just hedging for what he was about to say. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Look. Charles.”

“I’m looking,” Charles teased.

Erik had to fight not to smile. It wasn’t usually so difficult not to smile. He found not smiling quite easy most of the time, especially around his film crew. He was ‘Mr. Lehnsherr’, or ‘boss’ as a lot of the crew had come to call him: the mean, shouty and angry director. Not Erik the blushing smiling bashful pissing three-of-the-seven-dwarves. It’s like Charles was somehow melting him with his floppy hair and sweet smile and eugh, Erik needed to stop. With strong resolve, he said what he needed to say.

“Now that I’m effectively your boss, we can only have a professional relationship. Shame.” He added the last word under his breath before he could stop himself.

Charles chuckled and shot Erik a secretive smile.

“Of course, I completely understand, my friend.”

Erik nodded then busied himself with getting a folder out of his bag.

“This is your timetable. Sorry for the short-notice, but as you know, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Ah.”

“Problem?”

“No, it’s just I’m going to have to drop at least one of my jobs to do this.”

Erik raised his eyebrows. “How many do you have?”

“Not counting acting jobs, I have four.”

“You must be very hardworking. That’s good. But if this movie kicks off, you won’t need any of those jobs. No more bartending and having to listen to drunk idiots in the late hours of night.”

“Oh, great,” Charles joked. “But I must admit, I’ve heard of your name in the industry before, and it’s always next to the words ‘rising star’. I’m honestly very excited to be working with you.”

God, was he always so charming? “Okay, that’s enough sucking up for now,” Erik laughed while

Charles hummed suggestively. Erik swore Charles was going to be the death of him. Fuck.

 

 


	3. 3

_A bildungsroman film following the story of Station, a hedonistic punk who finds himself in love with Jane. He struggles with her rejection by resorting to become her friend, her enemy, her protector. And also by fucking around a load. The film is called Thorn._

Filming had been going well. Erik was still prowling around the sets with his loudspeaker, but no one else had quit so far.

Erik hated to admit it, but it may have been partly due to Charles, who fit in immediately with his co-workers. He charmed everyone he met, bonding easily with people, and soon it began to feel like more of a family. This was very good, because they had to be spending all of their time with each other due to the busy schedule. Thanks to Shaw, they had lost at least three full days of filming which fucked up the schedule a lot. There were more late nights and early mornings for everyone. Erik would’ve been more pissed off, but getting to see Charles come in with bed-hair and a dozy smile at 5am satiated him somehow. And in a way, Shaw quitting was the best thing that could’ve happened: Shaw had been a good actor for the film, but Charles was the perfect actor.

It was also nice having Charles around to stand up to Erik sometimes, because he was the only person to be able to do it, it seemed. Emma could just about keep him in line most of the time, but that was because she’d known him for years. Charles had only just met him, yet learned how to deal with him almost immediately. He didn’t let Erik boss him around too much, or stretch him too far. If Erik was being mean or just ridiculous with trying to achieve his vision, then Charles would say so. This would invariably cause an argument, which was fun to watch. They’d scowl at each other, until finally one of them would concede. One minute later they’d be fine with each other again. It was kind of a minor miracle seeing as how Erik usually could hold a grudge forever.

Erik demanded an organic method of filming his masterpiece, in that everyone should see the parts being put together, nothing should be a one-man job. Also, Erik needed everyone to know exactly what his vision was- he tested people on the connotations he wanted from a set, and got the actors to endlessly study and get to know their characters. Luckily, everyone loved their jobs so they didn’t end up going crazy and battering Erik with his own clipboard.

A particularly fun character-session was when Erik went through tattoo designs for Station with Charles.

Erik drew a blobby human figure for him and Charles to sketch their ideas on, to the insult of Charles who drew his own figure next to it, notably more muscular.

They decided on knuckle tattoos (F U C K on one fist, U / M E on the other), a naked lady on a motorcycle on his bicep, a trashy tramp stamp and a crude cock and balls on his shoulder (fave), that he’d got when drunk.

Erik lost it when Charles designed a tramp stamp saying ‘semen demon’.

The crew had also become accustomed to Erik’s lack of manners and his weird obsessiveness over making his vision come true.

In the middle of a scene, Erik would yell cut and storm onto the set. He’d then tell the actors about his dream, gesticulating wildly. His dream was about this film being absolutely perfect- each character was original, well rounded, complicated, yet understandable and relatable. All the dialogue would flow easily, yet stick in people’s minds forever. The backdrop would be beautiful, even if it was just an alleyway, and the music would fit so well that it made people burst into tears. Anyone who watched this film would be haunted, in a good way.

This speech by Erik would always get a chuckle from the cast and crew- the way Erik’s eyes got dreamy and the way his hands waved around. You could tell he was an artist.

So, Erik was quite happy with the progress on the film. And he hated to admit it, but he loved Charles’ contribution to his masterpiece. He was charming and beautiful and brought something sharp and fresh to the whole thing. He enjoyed their clashes, and he enjoyed their jokes. He didn’t enjoy pining after him like a school girl. He certainly, inexplicably didn’t enjoy it when Charles flirted with other people. This was unfair, he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had very conflicted feelings on Charles. He loved him but wanted to hate him, so hated loving him, but ended up loving hating to love him, and it ended up with Erik being his usual grumpy self, but with a little more cologne.

Erik had always had a fiery temper, so no one really noticed the difference in him.

One afternoon, Erik was sat next to Emma, watching the scene they’d just filmed on a small screen when he saw Charles and Moira talking and laughing out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t help but notice how close they were standing, and Moira’s hand on Charles’ bicep. He felt a surge of jealousy in his gut.

Emma looked round when she realised Erik had stopped paying attention to the screen and saw what Erik was glowering at.

“Ah, so that’s why they have such good chemistry on screen,” she pointed out, looking at the couple laughing.

Erik growled. Were Charles and Moira dating? It would make sense. They worked together closely, and they would suit each other very well, but this annoyed Erik a lot. He couldn’t date Charles, so he didn’t want anyone else to date Charles. This was unreasonable, and Erik tried not to listen to himself, but it was difficult when all he wanted to do was claim Charles as his own. In an attempt to distract himself, he stood up and clapped his hands, calling people back to filming.

Charles and Moira failed to move. Instead, Charles said something that made Moira bend over with even more laughter, Charles resting his hand on her supportively and grinning.

Erik lost his temper. (It had been a long time coming according to Emma, who kept a joke ‘__ days without an accident’ sign to count days without Erik blowing his top).

He kicked his chair back then stomped towards the door, through the laughing couple and yelling at them to get a fucking room. He slammed the door behind him then took a deep breath.

It was warm and sunny outside, which wasn’t what he wanted at all. He stalked miserably around the base camp of trailers for a while, wishing he smoked so it would at least give him something to do with his hands, then skulked back to his own trailer. When he shut the thin door behind him, he realised he wasn’t the only person in there.

“What do you want?” Erik growled, trying not to sound too venomous. Honestly, he knew he was being a brat, he couldn’t hold it against Charles.

“I wanted to ask what’s wrong,” Charles said plainly. He was sat comfortably on a bean bag, with his knees together, looking up at Erik with slightly puppy-doggish eyes.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. You can leave now.”

Charles didn’t say anything, and didn’t make a move to go. Erik sighed and leaned against the counter, scowl adorning his features.

“Are you by any chance jealous?” Charles asked quietly. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, but it wasn’t mocking.

“No. Is there something I should be jealous of?”

“No, there isn’t,” Charles said sternly, then softened again. “Did you know Moira is engaged?”

“What?” This caught Erik’s attention.

“Yes, they’re waiting till filming is done so that they can have a nice long honeymoon in Scotland.”

“I didn’t know that. How did I not know that my leading lady is engaged?” Erik plopped down into the bean bag opposite Charles. He was embarrassed now, having had a hissy fit over nothing.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not very approachable. You’re very professional… but you’re also a snappy, grumpy old man,” Charles chanced.

Instead of blowing his top (again) Erik huffed a laugh. “ _I’m_ an old man? You’re the one that comes to work in knitted jumpers.”

“Knitted jumpers are very à la mode at the moment, thank you very much,” he smiled. He’d resolved Erik’s bad mood. He could always resolve Erik’s bad moods, which was useful but also very worrying to Erik. But he didn’t want to think about that now, he had to survive the rest of the filming day with an apologetic smile.

At some point during the conversation, Charles had grabbed Erik’s hand and been rubbing gently with his thumb. He looked down at their conjoined hands and allowed himself to enjoy it for a moment before shaking Charles off and standing up.

“I’m sorry for losing my patience. That was very unprofessional of me,” Erik said formally.

“No worries, my friend; you are human after all.”

Erik walked back into the studio with Charles following, and apologised stiffly, which was strange because the crew were used to no apology at all, just more scowling.

And when he next spoke to Moira, he ‘noticed’ her ring, and asked her about it, congratulating her and smiling at her gushing excitement.

See, he could be nice. Sometimes.

At the end of the day, when most people had left, Emma cornered Erik in his office.

“You like Charles?” Emma asked, slightly incredulously.

This popped Erik’s personal bubble. He attempted nonchalance. “I like him, he’s good for the part. I’m glad we hired him.”  
“Don’t give me that, Lehnsherr. You know what I mean.”

“Ergh.” Erik was trapped. He considered lying, but deemed it too much effort, so went for silence instead.

“Wow, I can’t believe it,” she said, his silence confirming her original question. This made Erik look up.

“Why is it so hard to believe?” he asked defensively.

“Because I didn’t know you ever had anything more than one night stands.”

“Ha. Right.”

“I think he likes you back. You guys would make a perfect match.”

Erik raised an eyebrow and did a rare cheeky smile, making Emma gasp.

“You already tapped that! Why did you ever stop tapping that?”

“Because we work together,” Erik sighed, resigned to actually conversing about this with Emma. He never thought he’d be brought down to discussing his crushes with her, and he blamed it all on one man.

“That can’t be your reason, you know Raven from make-up and the lighting guy? Hank? They’re dating. You’re fine with that.”

“It’s different: I’m his boss, I’m in a position where I’d have the power to manipulate him. I couldn’t do that.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Erik's blank face convinced Emma that he wasn't kidding.

"Like you could ever manipulate him, sugar, he is the second most strong-willed person I know and you can guess the first. He's just about the only person you couldn't manipulate. Now that I'm thinking about it, he might be your only shot at an equal relationship, everyone else seems to cower before you, you grumpy angry man."

"Yeah, alright that's enough advice from you," Erik said, having had more than his fill of 'boy talk'. "Piss off home. And don't forget to look at the photo proposals," he added as Emma rolled her eyes and left. But she left with a smirk, which annoyed Erik. People were not supposed to leave his office smirking, ever.

Emma had given him something, though. Just a little bit of hope that maybe Erik could have a relationship with Charles. But hope was dangerous, and relationships went wrong. It took him a while, but Erik finally came to the conclusion that he should not pursue Charles. This was for a number of reasons.

One, Erik hadn’t dated since he finished college, two, he was still his boss and it was unprofessional and there’d be buckets of trouble if the media ever found out and three, he was maybe a tiny bit afraid of how easy it would be to fall in love with Charles. He'd already brought out the jealous side of Erik, and made him smile too much, what was next?

But he’d drawn this conclusion from logical arguments before they started filming Charles' sex scenes.

After filming Charles’ sex scenes, logical arguments flew out of the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanku for reading, and for kudosing it means alot :))))


	4. 4

It was 7pm on a Thursday night, and Erik was watching Charles have alley-sex. Kind of.

In the film, Station and Ange had a passionate embrace in a dark alley way, Station being Charles, and Ange being played by an actress called Isabel.

Currently, Erik's eyes were fixated on Charles' bare behind, pretend-thrusting into Isabel and groaning. He'd never been more turned on by softcore porn, and he wasn't handling it well. He found himself actually considering putting a cushion on his lap, but deemed it too obvious.

So, instead he had to just watch through it, and attempt to think unsexy thoughts. He thought perhaps looking away for a second would do him some good, but when he did, a close up shot of Charles’ mouth caught his eye. Of course, the detail shots they’d finished earlier were still on screen, Charles’ sinfully red lips being bitten over and over, tongue coming out to swipe across his upper lip slowly. That was worse somehow, so Erik quickly turned his head back to the scene and attempted to focus on his breathing.

When they finished the take and Charles finally pulled his skinny jeans back up, Erik let out a long sigh.

Then, for a moment, Erik was very confused. Charles roughly shucked his jeans back down and started going at it again. Was he making a point or did he just really like Isabel? But Erik belatedly realised they were doing the take from another angle, as ordered by Emma. He was so out of it, it was embarrassing. But at least Emma wasn’t too distracted by Charles’ gyrating hips to actually get this scene to the big screen where everyone else would be able to appreciate Charles’ ass as much as Erik was.

As the take went on, Charles began to sweat slightly. Erik could see the faint sheen on his back. He realised he was digging his nails into his thigh painfully, and carefully unclenched his fists. _Come on, it's nearly over_ , he told himself. Charles was nearly there... nearly... yes, he'd finished, with a dirty groan dragging itself up from his chest.

Emma sauntered over to Erik, whose eyes were pointedly fixed to the ground now as the crew started packing away their things.

"I wasn't sure about the lighting on that shot, do you think we ought to shoot it one more time?" Emma asked faux-innocently.

"Fuck. Off," Erik breathed. "Can I go now?"

"I don't see why not. Have fun," Emma laughed.

Erik huffed at his friend, and then proceeded to attempt to walk back to his trailer as if he didn't have a massive hard on, which was kind of difficult considering the fact that he had a massive hard on. He held his clipboard awkwardly in front of his crotch until he finally got to his trailer.

As soon as he'd locked the door behind him, someone knocked on it. Erik barely stopped himself from screaming.

"Busy, come back tomorrow," he barked, in his typical grumpy manner.

There was a pause and then, "It's me."

Erik opened the door to find Charles on the steps outside, back in his normal clothes.

"I just wanted to have a word with you about Station's dialogue tomorrow, but if you're too busy I guess it could wait till morning," Charles smiled cheekily, lips still torturously red.

That was all Erik could take. In response, Erik dragged Charles into the trailer and slammed the door behind him. Without much thought, he crashed his lips into Charles, kissing him possessively.

Charles made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but settled into the kiss easily for a few seconds. He pulled back, but left only an inch between their mouths so that Erik could feel Charles’ shallow breaths tickle his face.

“Does this mean I’m fired?” Charles asked softly. Erik was transfixed by Charles’ mouth (again), so it took him a few seconds to process what he’d just said.

“Wait, what?”

“It’s just that you said we couldn’t do this while you were my boss,” he murmured. His face displayed no emotion until he looked up into Erik’s eyes. They were sparkling with mirth. The git.

“Of course not, you’re doing a wonderful job and you know it. I just…” Erik trailed off. Charles’ silence meant that he was going to force Erik to explain himself- express his emotions, ergh. Only for Charles, he thought, as he backed off a bit to give himself room to talk. “I just… I missed you. And you’re stupidly irresistible and amazing and I want you and- but if this isn’t ok, I will completely understand, I am your boss after all. I don’t want to manipulate you into anything.”

Charles smiled at his feet. “This is ok, Erik. I don’t really think of you as my boss anyway. Besides, if you hadn’t ok’ed this sooner, I might’ve exploded from sexual frustration. I would’ve leapt on you the moment filming ended.”

“You might’ve exploded from sexual frustration? You didn’t have to watch me have sex over and over,” Erik practically groaned, want swirling up from his stomach again at the thought of it. He decidedly advanced on Charles who was slowly backing into the leather couch.

“Well we’ll have to make up for that, won’t we?”

Erik cut Charles’ cheeky grin short by kissing him again, this time more gently. Their lips moved against each other warmly until Charles pushed Erik down onto the couch and began trailing his kisses down Erik’s jawline. 

Erik wanted to say a million things, how beautiful Charles looked, how long he’d waited for this, how good it felt, but it all seemed too trite, so instead he ended up just cursing. His hands wound round Charles' waist, and then wandered to his head, messing his fingers gently into Charles’ hair.

“ _Scheiße_ , Charles,” Erik choked out, as Charles moved onto kissing Erik's neck. Out of the corner of his eye, Erik could see Charles was smiling, cheeks pink and eyes closed and Erik couldn't resist dragging Charles face back up to his and kissing him again and again. 

Just as Charles began to slowly unbutton Erik's shirt, there was a loud banging on the door, making them both jump.

“Erik, it’s Raven, I just needed to-”

“Fuck off,” Erik shouted through the door, voice gruff.

“Ok, I’ll come back tomorrow,” Raven replied, totally unaffected by the expletive.

Her unperturbed reply made Charles giggle, but he couldn’t do so out loud so by the time they’d heard Raven’s footsteps fade away Charles was shaking with full-body laughter.

It didn’t take long for Erik to get Charles to stop laughing.

A while later, by which time it was fully dark outside, Charles finally slunk out of Erik’s trailer, cheeks even pinker than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :)))))))


	5. ♥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the reading and the kudos and the comments, it means a lot <3   
> warnings for this chapter: CHEESY DATES AND BEING LAMEWADS

 

Charles was just finishing his beer when a beefy biker-type guy walked up to him and pointed a stubby, grubby finger at his chest.

“You tried to have sex with my girl,” he growled.

Charles gave him a look up and down, then smiled and wiped the foam off of his mouth.

“The word ‘tried’ would suggest that I didn’t cum inside her. Twice.”

The biker grabbed him by the hair and pushed his head down to the bar, making sure he didn’t do it too hard. Charles still winced convincingly, then staggered to his feet, almost toppling backwards. The biker let his guard down for a moment, and Charles took the opportunity to stage-punch his jaw. Then two of the biker’s cronies introduced themselves into the fight, and it all got a bit chaotic.

The brawl continued intermittently, as they kept needing to pause to re-do the wounded make-up.

Finally, Charles slid down the wall, eyes slipping shut as he passed out, effectively ending the scene.

“And we’re done,” Erik called, signalling the anarchy to stop. “Good.”

“Stunt double scenes tomorrow when James gets in, so you can all go home now. Great job, guys,” Emma called. “See you tomorrow, Lehnsherr.”

“Mmhmm,” Erik acknowledged, eyes on Charles who was chatting to Logan, the scary-biker guy. Charles’ leather jacket was ripped, there was dried ‘blood’ coming out of his nose, and bruises and cuts adorning the rest of him. That was kind of hot. Erik shook his head and left for his trailer.

Filming had been going well so far. It all looked good, felt good, and Erik’s masterpiece was finally unfolding into a real life movie. Hopefully, the crew thought that that was the only reason Erik had been in such an uncharacteristically jovial mood, and not guess that he was banging the lead. Erik and Charles had decided to keep their relationship on the ‘down low’, because it would undoubtedly cause drama if everyone knew.

But, Erik hadn’t counted on how intuitive some of his cast and crew were. It was apparently hard to miss all the ‘lingering eye contact’ and ‘excessive friendly touching’, as Emma had described it. But whoever had seen what, no one was about to complain. Whatever Erik and Charles were, it was keeping Erik a bit less shouty, and that’s how the crew liked it.

Once Erik got back to his trailer, he busied himself with some work until there was a knock at the door. He already knew who it was before opening it.

“Come in, Charles,” he greeted, waiting until the door was closed behind him to give him a kiss hello. “I’m just waiting for an email, then we can go.”

“Ok,” he replied, taking a seat in the bean bag. “Like the scene?”

“Yes, it was positively raunchy,” Erik grinned. “You look good as a punk.”

“Thank you, darling. I must admit I’m much more comfortable in knitwear than leather though.”

“I see you’re comfortable in the make-up though. Chicks dig scars,” Erik said, motioning towards Charles’ split lip. The rest of his face was clear of the previous bruises and cuts now.

“Make-up? This is real, I was acting too hard,” Charles said, coming closer to show Erik the wound.

“What? did someone hit you for real?” Erik asked, frowning. He was going to have words with the culprit. Very loud words.

“No, really. I was acting too hard. I bit my lip when I was wincing and split the skin,” Charles laughed, finding Erik’s bristling amusing.

“Huh,” Erik replied, then swivelled round to his laptop that had just pinged. He quickly typed out a response, then shut the machine down. “So. Where are you taking me this fine evening?” he asked while gathering his things.

“I thought I’d take you to my favourite place. It’s in the next town over.”

“Is it a strip club?” Erik asked flatly.

“Ha ha, very funny. You’ll see.”

And half an hour later, he did see. Charles had taken him to a little coffee shop on a street corner that was stacked with books. It wasn’t a strip club, but Erik was thrown off for a second by the name of the establishment: _A Lusty Brew_. Charles assured him it’s named after the romantic atmosphere, and that there would definitely be no strippers in there.

It was actually quite pleasant, and Erik could easily understand why it was Charles’ favourite place. The red-haired barista obviously knew Charles and made a fuss over him as he came in, kissing him on the cheek and asking him how he’d been. When he introduced her to Erik, she greeted him warmly to her café, and then went off to get their orders. One mocha, one macchiato.

“So your favourite place is a coffee shop. I thought _I_ was supposed to be the caffeine addict,” Erik pointed out, looking around. There was a very cosy feel to the place, and Charles looked right at home in the oak chair, his face framed by a wall of books. He reached to the wall of books now and took out a slim maroon volume.

“Maybe I’m an atmosphere addict then,” Charles said absent-mindedly, flicking through the book.

“Maybe you’re an old fart,” Erik accused him, smirking as Charles saluted him with his middle finger.

“Ah, here we go: My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears; and true plain hearts do in the faces rest, where-”

“Please tell me you are not reading me love poems right now. Please, Charles,” Erik begged, trying to look as embarrassed as possible.

Charles chuckled but relented. “Fine, I’ll stop torturing you, you uncultured swine. Just thought I’d educate you with some John Donne.”

“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a continent,” Erik recited.

“Bravo. Although I must say I prefer his love poems.”

“How did I get in a relationship with someone so pretentious?” Erik asked, rolling his eyes.

“You should’ve known when I left you that note the morning after we first met.”

“Ah, yes. ‘Busy old fool, unruly sun’ as I recall.”

“I’m touched that you remember it,” Charles said, and he actually did look elated. “That’s another John Donne for you.”

“No more, I’m begging you.”

“Shall we have a bit of Oscar Wilde now?” Charles suggested devilishly, back to looking through the bookshelf.

“No,” Erik dragged Charles attention back to him by grabbing his hands. “Screw Oscar Wilde, tell me things,” he demanded, attempting to ignore Charles’ obscene eyebrow-waggle at the phrase ‘screw Oscar Wilde’.

At that moment, the barista made her way over with their drinks. Erik let go of Charles to make room for her to put them down.

“Tell you things?” Charles repeated once they’d thanked her and she’d bustled away again. “What things would you like to hear?”

“I don’t know… Tell me your history.”

Charles stirred his cup thoughtfully in silence for a few seconds as Erik watched him.

“I’m an only child, from a family with quite a bit of money,” Charles began hesitantly, like he was afraid Erik was going to judge, but Erik just nodded neutrally, signalling Charles to continue. Erik wanted to solve the mystery of Charles once and for all; he wasn’t there to judge. “They paid for me to go to Oxford and study Biology there. I got my degree, and had almost finished my PhD by the time I decided science wasn’t the right path for me. I’d always enjoyed literary studies, and had been involved in several drama-clubs, so it seemed fitting for me to go into the performing arts. It was liberating, in fact.

“My family shunned this of course. Disowned me, actually. I used the last of their money to move here, where I’d been forging my new life for only a matter of weeks when I met you in the bar. A stroke of luck.” He finished his verbal abridged autobiography with an absent smile.

“Perhaps it was destiny,” Erik said. “Ahem, as in to get the job, not to meet me, I mean- you know,” he backtracked when he realised what he’d just suggested to the plain amusement of Charles.

“Ah, the romantic eloquence,” Charles teased.

“Ergh.”

“What about you, then?”

“Not as interesting a background as you. My family migrated to America when I was three. Mother was a cleaner, father was absent. I paid my own way to art school, then got a crappy post-grad job on a film set. I worked my way up from there. It was fun, but it was all so that I could get enough experience to become a director.” Here, Erik got a dreamy look in his eyes.

“Around five years ago, I started writing the screenplay for _Thorn_ , and it has been my life since then. It is me. I spent over two of those years trying to get the funding needed for it, and, well you know where we’re at now with it. That is all,” Erik finished un-grandiosely.

“I think that’s a very interesting background, my friend. I think following our dreams deserves a cheers,” Charles said, clinking his mug against Erik’s, and then taking a gulp.

When Charles put the mug down, Erik laughed.

“Charles, _schatz_ , you have whipped cream on your face.”

Charles wiped the corner of his mouth conservatively. “Did I get it?”

“No, the other side.”

“Here?”

“No, down a bit.”

“Here?”

“No, just- seriously?” Erik asked incredulously when he realised Charles was missing it deliberately. “You want me to wipe it off,” he deadpanned.

Charles simply looked at him, as innocent as anything. Damn actors.

“You are the most clichéd man ever- I refuse. I’ll just leave you looking ridiculous with a whipped cream moustache,” Erik said, trying hard not to laugh.

“Ok. To drift with every passion till my soul,” Charles began to say in an impassioned manner. “Is a stringed lute, on which all-”

The recital was cut short when Erik, after rolling his eyes heavily, grabbed Charles by the chin with one hand, and wiped of the cream with the other. He then took the opportunity to silence Charles further by kissing him. After a few seconds he leaned back only slightly, enjoying the way Charles’ eyes fixated on his lips.

“Happy now?” Erik asked huskily.

Just as Charles was about to make a (probably lewd) remark, Erik’s head snapped round at the sound of a picture being taken on an iPhone.

Whoever it was had put their phone away too quickly for Erik to see.

“What the hell, I think someone just took a picture of us,” Erik said to Charles.

“Not too strange. We’re a young attractive homosexual couple in a dreadfully hipster café. Who wouldn’t want to take a picture of us?” Charles said. “They probably weren’t even taking a picture of us, it was probably an instagram of their coffee.”

Erik leaned back with a look of sudden dread upon his face.

“What?” Charles asked, alarmed.

“I just realised,” Erik said, leaving Charles hanging for a few seconds. “The knitted jumper, the book-shop café, the poetry. You’re a hipster.”

Charles gave him the most withering look he could manage.

 

*-*-*

 

A few nights later, Charles and Erik were sat in the latter’s parked car, listening to the sound of Erik’s fingers drum against the steering wheel in deep thought.

“Come on, you really can’t think of your favourite place?” Charles asked disbelievingly.

Erik had had a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ moment- in regards to their favourite place. But once they’d got in the car, all ready to go, Erik had hit a wall. (Metaphorically, thank god.)

His favourite place. The first place that came to mind was his apartment, but that was just boring. Then he thought of the cinema in his old town, that his mother used to take him to on special occasions, but that was hours drive away, and it wasn’t exactly spectacular. There was his uni residence, his friend’s house, the studio. All these locations had one thing in common.

“I’ve got it,” Erik finally announced, and promptly got out his phone to google something. “My favourite places are anywhere that I watch movies. I don’t know if you noticed, but I really enjoy movies,” he explained. “So tonight, we shall visit an ozoner.”

Charles looked taken aback. “An ozoner? Isn’t that a PCP user? Are you taking me to a drug den?”

“Hilarious. No, an ozoner. You know what an ozoner is.”

“I honestly have no clue.”

“Ergh, it’s a drive-in cinema. Get with the lingo, Charles.”

He raised his eyebrows appraisingly at Erik.

“Ok, the nearest one showing tonight… oh god, it’s _Big Trouble in Little China_. I suppose that’ll have to do.”

So they drove to the ‘ozoner’, found a space and tuned the radio. It was quite a nice place. The only problem was that the film was unbearably tacky and eighties, and they started getting pretty bored with the millionth mindless action scene, so they ended up turning the radio off, and chatting.

“Probably _The Breakfast Club_ ,” Erik admitted after chiding Charles for asking such a question as what his favourite movie was. “I’ve loved it since the moment I watched it. Ah, but also _Watchmen_. Then again, I also like-”

“Ah. I said favourite, not favourites,” Charles teased.

“Hmm. Fine, what’s your favourite?” Erik asked, emphasising the ‘t’.

“ _Casablanca_ ,” he replied easily.

“Such a romantic.”

“Of course.”

By the end of the movie, they’d discussed it all. Erik found out that Charles cried at sad soundtracks, Charles found out that Erik only cried at _Bambi_. They also discovered that they shared a love for _The Hunger Games_ quadrilogy, and made a date to see the final one together.

They’d also maybe started making out, even though it made Erik slightly feel like he was in a teen movie, but, unfortunately, the gear stick made it too uncomfortable to continue. It had made them laugh though, so all in all, a successful date that left Erik smiling way too much.

 

 


	6. 6

Today, the cast had to do the dubbing for the fighting and the sex scenes. Charles had the most to do, thanks to Station’s libido. Isabel had just finished her recording, and now it was Charles’ turn to be in the booth.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Erik said to him over the speaker. He was sat in the control room listening with Angel, his apprentice/intern/coffee-fetcher. “You have seven scenes of a sexual nature to groan for, congratulations.”

“First up, ‘Rebellious Masturbation’,” Angel instructed.

Being the great actor he was, Charles got straight into it. With facial expressions. Erik was a professional and he could handle this. He could.

Once Charles had finished, (finished while watching Erik from underneath his eyelashes), Erik cleared his throat and readjusted how he was sitting. He could handle this.

“Ok, good, next ‘Audacious Blowjob’.”

Charles held back a grin at the name, and then started his moaning and groaning again. He half closed his eyelids and this time Erik could not take his eyes off of Charles’ adams apple bobbing up and down. Erik couldn’t handle this.

“Yep, that’s good. Angel, would you mind getting me a Starbucks? I’m dying for a caffeine shot.”

Angel sighed, but obliged anyway. “You mean just a coffee right?”

“No. A Starbucks, I need a Starbucks,” Erik insisted, while Charles sat in the sound room with raised eyebrows.

“But the nearest Starbucks is a fifteen minute drive to town. And it’s lunch time, it’ll be packed.”

“I’ll pay for your fuel.”

Angel looked at him unconvinced.

“And you can get a coffee for yourself on me.”

Angel still looked at him.

“Fine, get yourself a cake and a coffee and a pasta salad, whatever the hell you want,” Erik gave in, shooing the now triumphant Angel out of the room, and locking the door behind her.

“That was rude,” Charles mockingly reprimanded from his sound booth.

“I was saving her from the emotional scarring she’d get if she saw her boss with a hard on. And probably saving me from a lawsuit as well… Anyway, next on the list is ‘The Best Kind of Threesome’.”

Erik dug his fingers into his thighs as he watched Charles get worked up all over again. Moaning, panting, hissed expletives and the wet sound of his lips smacking together. And he kept eye contact with Erik the whole time, who was finding his life very difficult in that moment. Half of him wanted to have sex with Charles right there in the soundbooth- that would make for great dubbing. But the other half- the slightly saner half- told him that he couldn’t have sex in the sound booth. It would probably not be appreciated by the owners of the actual studio. And also the room was still accessible to people with keys. So it really wasn’t a good idea, but Charles was driving Erik insane with his noises.

Erik just about survived the recording of ‘Alley Sex’, and then they moved onto the penultimate one: ‘Sad Masturbation’.

This is where they encountered a slight problem.

Trying to make sexually aroused noises while also sobbing was amusing Charles to no end, and he kept bursting out laughing before they could finish the recording. It was no help that Erik was also sniggering.

He ended up having to decide that they’d just edit the different recordings together. They needed to get this over with, before Angel came back. But Charles was deciding to be difficult now.

“I’m not in the mood after ‘Sad Masturbation’,” he teased.

“You’re an actor, do your job,” Erik replied nonchalantly, feigning obliviance to Charles’ plan. “It’s the last one, it’s ‘Love Making’.”

“Erik. Can’t you help me out?” Charles asked meaningfully.

Erik was silent for a few seconds, before leaning forward and making sure the red recording light was off. He breathed out through the speaker, relishing the small shiver that went through Charles’ body. He was glad he wasn’t the only one being so highly affected by little noises.

“Imagine I’m in there with you. My hands all over your body. We’re kissing. We rip off our clothing- not actually rip, I’m sure it would be exceedingly difficult to actually rip oneself out of a pair of jeans-”

“Continue,” Charles prompted, attempting to get Erik back on track, despite his warm smile.

“Right. I press your body flush against the window and grind into you hotly. I’m whispering in your ear. You’re fucking beautiful, Charles, you’re the best thing that’s-”

“I’m ready,” Charles said, interrupting Erik again. It took him a moment to realise what Charles was saying, and then he fumbled to press the recording button and gave Charles a thumbs up. Charles panted into the microphone, watching Erik alluringly.

“I love you,” he whispered, then moaned, arching his back with it. Erik’s chest tightened. He knew that was Station’s line in this scene, but- had Charles meant that? He had been looking into his eyes, and… Erik decided he didn’t want to know. It was an amazing performance from Charles, and he wasn’t going to spoil the moment with an awkward talk about their relationship.

“Good. And we’re done, thank you, Charles,” Erik acknowledged. “Where is that Starbucks?”

Anything to stop thinking about how much his heart soared when he thought of those three words that Charles had just said.

 

*-*-*

 

The cast had taken the morning off to do publicity shots. Erik stood behind the photographer, watching the screen. As he was the director of photography for the movie, Erik got to have input on the pictures. As he was nowhere near a professional photographer, the woman was getting quite annoyed as Erik used progressively more abstract terms to describe how he wanted the photos.

Finally they had twenty perfect shots of the characters, all suited up and looking suitably aggressive. The posters were going to look great.

“We should have a picture with the boss!” Moira called out, before Erik could tell everyone to go home.

“No. No way,” Erik ruled out immediately. “I’m not paying for more photos. We have such thing as a budget, you realise?” he said, hoping that was a good enough excuse.

“You can take a picture on my phone, right?” Moira asked the photographer who shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah, why not.”

Erik attempted again to resist, but his damned cast actually dragged him into a group picture. Since when had the cast become so unafraid of him? Erik had to remind himself that that wasn’t a bad thing. Once he was squeezed between his two stars, he attempted to look austere for the first photo. He’d been cajoled into taking a picture with everyone, so he’d decided to save face by looking as serious as possible. But then the photographer announced the next photo would be funny faces. (Seriously? This woman must’ve also been a school photographer once upon a time.)

“I’m not going to do a funny face,” Erik murmured, as she counted down.

“Oh yes you are,” Charles murmured back confidently, before pouting his lips for the picture. Erik was confused by Charles’ certainty until he felt his bum being pinched. It was perfect timing- the picture was taken as Erik’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth popped open in surprise.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Erik whipped round to address Charles, who consequently burst out laughing. The rest of the cast listened in, curious as to the commotion.

“What? Why are you-” Erik was interrupted by Moira clearing her throat.

“Sorry Boss, but it wasn’t Charles that pinched your ass. It was me,” and then she burst out laughing too as Erik actually blushed. It took him only a few seconds before he started sniggering too though, which effectively gave the rest of the cast permission to join in.

“That’s a lovely picture,” the photographer commented, having taken a candid while everyone was laughing and smiling. Moira thanked her and took the phone back, and after flicking through them, declared triumphantly that they’d got a picture of Erik grinning. The small crowd cheered, and Erik rolled his eyes but then finally got to tell everyone to go home.

Charles had the next morning off. Except he wasn’t really taking it off, as he was taking his shift in a diner which happened to be on the way from Erik’s house to the studio (if you took a small detour…) so Erik decided to pop in on his way to work.

Erik settled in a booth, and soon after, Charles sat down opposite him.

“What can I get you?” Charles asked.

“I’ve already been served, thank you,” Erik replied, holding his mug up as evidence.

Charles gasped. “You let another waiter serve you? How could you?”

Erik dismissed Charles’ dramatics with a smirk, then placed an envelope on the table. “The shots from yesterday,” he explained as Charles picked it up.

“Ah, they’re wonderful,” he commented, flicking through them.

“They’re quite good. Have I told you how good you look in eyeliner?”

“You have, several times, darling.”

Erik shrugged in response.

“The other photos have been printed too,” Charles said, after fitting the shots back into their envelope.

“The other photos?”

“On Moira’s phone. She printed a few copies, and they’ve been put up in the make-up room,” he explained, looking way too pleased with himself.

“Ergh, why.” He was more asking a higher being why he’d managed to become likeable enough to get put in on a group photo, but Charles answered anyway.

“Because it’s cute.”

“No.”

“And I think Moira’s planning on giving you a framed copy next week, of the one where we’re all laughing,” Charles added.

For once, Erik didn’t reply straight away with a snide remark.

“That’s kind of her,” Erik finally decided to say. He’d been resistant to being in the group picture because he was resistant to being too chummy with the cast- he wanted to keep up the image of strict, distant boss that he’d always had of himself. But another reason was that he’d never been fond of pictures of himself. He preferred being behind the camera rather than in front of it. But Moira was going to the trouble of printing it and framing it, just for Erik and Erik managed to admit to himself that that was actually quite heart-warming. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone else though, of course.

“Anyway, shouldn’t you be working?” Charles asked Erik, interrupting his reverie.

Erik scoffed. “Says you!”

“I guess you’re right. See you this afternoon,” Charles smiled, then pecked Erik’s cheek before whizzing off to get someone else’s order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading so far!!!!!!!!!


	7. 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's short! It feels really fillery, but something will happen soon do not worry. Thanks for reading so far :)))

“What’s the meaning of this?” Erik asked accusingly, as he opened the door to a tall, walking wooden clock.

Charles heaved the object through and set it down in Erik’s sitting room.

“It’s a present,” Charles stated proudly. “You’re always calling me an old man, so I thought I’d get you a grandfather's clock. Except the grandfather’s clock was too tall to fit in my car so I uh, had to get a grandmother’s clock instead,” he said apologetically. He looked around for somewhere to put it, as Erik just squinted at him. “Also, your home is so filled with glass and metal, I thought it needed some wood in it.”

“It doesn’t go,” Erik said unsurely, as Charles placed it next to the TV. “No, not there, put it by the phone cradle.”

Charles did what he was told, and then stood back to admire his ‘handiwork’.

“Like it?” Charles asked hopefully.

Erik sighed relentingly. “Yes, it actually looks quite nice. Thank you very much, schatz.”

“No problem.”

“But that’s not an invitation for anymore clutter in my home. Not like at your apartment. You can’t even see the floor in some of your rooms,” Erik scolded. From his modern, studio apartment, one could tell Erik was a control freak. It was decorated very minimalistically, with an exact colour scheme, and lots of space left open. But somehow, the clock weirdly fitted. Just like Charles weirdly fitted with Erik, he thought quietly.

“Out of clutter, find simplicity,” Charles said in an enlightened manner.

“Hm. Well, without clutter, I can actually walk around in my own home. And I actually have room in my kitchen to make real food.”

Charles gave him a scathing look, as if ‘real food’ was a silly concept to him. Charles almost exclusively ate out, whether it be a coffee and a cake in Starbucks, or a meal deal from Walmart. This drove Erik to despair.

“In fact, I think I’ll make you some real food right now. Will you stay for a while?”

“Of course, my darling,” Charles said, as Erik made his way to the kitchen. Charles went to sit at the breakfast bar to watch Erik search through his cupboards. “What’s on the menu for tonight, chef?”

“Hm. Perhaps some Winter Squash Soup to begin with, followed by Coq au Vin, and for desserts, Pear Clafouti.”

“Wow, that sounds wonderful,” Charles said, actually slightly stunned.

The dinner was amazing. Charles hadn’t eaten such high-class food since his parents took him out to dinner in his teens to get him accustomed to French cuisine.

“This is amazing Erik, where did you learn to cook like this?” Charles asked as he finished his last mouthful of salted chicken.

“Internet,” he replied simply. “I like cooking, and if I cook posh food with posh names, then it seems even more impressive,” he added.

They talked for a while more until they finished their food and then retired to the couch. The conversation moved to past relationships.

“Well, this is slightly embarrassing, but I’ve never had a proper relationship before,” Erik admitted, after Charles had briefly listed his last partners. “I’ve always been a one-night stand kind of man.”

“Well, you’ve successfully transitioned from grumpy, blunt, no-strings-attached-sex guy to a gracious dinner-cooking gentleman.”

“Hey. I’m still grumpy and blunt,” Erik complained.

A bit later, Erik put on a film- _The Grand Budapest Hotel_ \- and Charles have fallen asleep on Erik’s shoulder, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts. He looked down at Charles sweetly snoozing, and chewed his lip. He swore he was still the grumpy git he used to be- he just possibly also happened to be maybe slightly in love with Charles. Possibly. And it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to him. Erik had to conclude that it had changed him, arguably for the better. He hadn’t been terribly unhappy before; being blunt with everyone, getting drunk more than once a week, having one night affairs with strangers occasionally, it was all part of _la vie_ for Erik. Things were different now though.

Erik’s thoughts became less coherent as he started to fall asleep to the sound of Charles’ soft breathing. Charles had such a kind heart, he was golden, snuggled up to Erik’s side. He wasn’t cynical enough for the dirt-streaked world and must be protected. He was a good soul and Erik would not allow anything to taint him.

Charles above all else. Because Erik is used to settling with the mediocre by now. 


	8. 8//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is one more short fluffy chapter haha  
> thank you for reading so far!!! the kudos, comments and bookmarks are so appreciated :)

Most of the scenes for _Thorn_ had been shot within a ten mile radius of the studio, as it was mostly set in an urban landscape. However, it left a couple of scenes to be shot on a desert highway, the only on-site filming needed. This was scheduled a few days before the studio would be opened to the press, and by then they’d only have a few detail shots left to complete, and then they’d be basically finished. (Although basically finished meant there was still a couple of months of editing and finishing up to do- for some crew the work was just beginning, but for the actors they wouldn’t see each other again until the film festival). So Erik, feeling uncharacteristically grateful to the team, arranged for catering to set up a special barbeque-picnic type thing for the filming. They’d be there from 4pm til at least midnight to get the scenes, and Erik decided that a treat was appropriate. And possibly Charles had influenced this act of kindness. Possibly.

The reason that they were opening the studios to the press so late in the filming process, Erik explained to Charles when he’d asked, was that he didn’t want anything to go wrong. By opening so late, the movie already knew the feel it was going for, the cast and crew were already comfortable with each other, and so the risk for disaster and scandal were minimalised. Also, so far they hadn’t desperately needed a lot of press- they already had a reasonable amount of hype with Moira’s darling status in social media, and Erik’s good reputation within the industry. They were doing good. When the press do arrive, it will make it feel so much more real, Erik had thought. He wasn’t worried. Not really.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, they were on the couple hour drive to the desert. A lot of the crew were on a rented coach, but Erik had opted not to be cooped in with all his high spirited crew for over one hundred minutes and had taken his car instead.

He also couldn’t resist getting Charles to join him for the ride, but when it became too suspicious, he invited Moira too, and gave the excuse that they were going to be doing some character-study and discussion for the film. Then Angel somehow got added to his passenger list, or else she’d miss ‘valuable experience’. And finally, on the morning of the trip, Emma saw the small troupe marching towards Erik’s silver Toyota and demanded a seat on account of her travel sickness. Erik grinded his teeth at her, but acquiesced. Somehow he’d still ended up cooped up with high-spirited crew.

A small mercy was that Charles had won shotgun privileges. A non-mercy was that this made it all the much harder to resist smiling too much at Charles, or resting a hand on his leg, or teasing him about something that had happened on a date the other night. But Charles and Erik had agreed it wouldn’t be ideal to make their relationship obvious to the crew. However, all the time, their guards were slipping. As it got closer to the time that Erik would no longer technically be Charles’ boss, they seemed to make more and more allowances for public displays of affection. Hopefully it passed off as friendship to most people.

The drive went better than expected, though. Initially, Erik remained distant from the jabber of conversation between the other four, like he did with most general chatter amongst the crew, but his proximity to his two closest friends, Charles and Emma soon loosened Erik’s mouth. He didn’t think Angel had ever heard him say more than two sentences about anything other than work, so she couldn’t hide her bewilderment when Erik told an anecdote from his college days. It was also good, because Erik found out things he didn’t know about Moira and Angel, and even Charles. When conversation ran out, they started a round of ‘I spy’, which Charles was very good at, although it ended up as a competition for who knew the most technical words. In the end, Charles won with ‘cumulus cloud’. Trust him to be a member of the Cloud Appreciation Society.

Eventually they got to the location. The first scene was finished miraculously in just over an hour, leaving them a long time for the barbeque, and for waiting until it was dark enough to shoot the last scene.

Everyone was sat on separate islands of picnic blankets, and enjoying the food- catering had outdone themselves. Erik, Charles and a few others sat on one tartan blanket together. As they were eating, Erik’s phone buzzed. Charles watched as Erik looked at the small screen then smiled widely.

“What is it?” Charles asked curiously.

In answer, Erik held out his phone. It was a YouTube video, entitled _Thorn: Official Teaser Trailer #1_. Charles’ face lit up.

“I didn’t know the trailer was being released tonight,” Charles said excitedly.

“It’s only a teaser trailer...”

“Still! You have to tell everyone”

“I’ll email it round tomorrow,” Erik said, taking his phone back and smiling slightly. When he looked up from the screen again, Charles was appraising him sternly. Erik sighed in resignation and stood up. He supposed Charles’ stern look was correct- he should tell the crew now seeing as they were all together and it was a cause to celebrate even more.

“Attention,” Erik called out formally. The chatter died away quickly, Erik’s voice carrying easily in the silence of the desert highway. “ _Thorn_ ’s teaser trailer came out today. You can find it on the website and on YouTube, so, yes, go watch it.”

This address was met with a smatter of applause and woops, and Erik took it that his job was done but Charles pinched his leg when he tried to sit down. He ‘ah’ed in surprise, which made his audience laugh slightly, and Erik had to try to work out what he’d forgotten.

“Oh yeah, and well done,” he belatedly added, and this time was permitted to sit down by his annoying (supposedly secret) boyfriend. Charles smiled sweetly at him in response to the glare Erik attempted.

They finished their meal, and as the temperature began to drop, people moved off to the coach, and to the equipment to get things ready. Charles and Erik remained on the blanket, finally finding semi-privacy.

“Isn’t it beautiful out here?” Charles asked dreamily, eyes scanning the purple mountain horizon.

Erik hummed in agreement, then caught Charles’ hand in his, subtly.

“You’re shivering,” Erik said, frowning.

“Warm me up then,” Charles whispered with a smirk.

Erik shook his head hopelessly. “Your flirtations are terrible, I have told you that right?”

“Fine. Well maybe you could’ve given Station a coat to wear in this scene then,” Charles complained.

“Hm. No, Station isn’t a person that remembers to bring his coat to places.”

“He could steal a coat,” Charles suggested. “But he thinks he’s invincible, he wouldn’t care enough to steal a coat,” he contradicted himself almost immediately, with a wistful sigh at the end.

“Sorry, Charles. You knew what you were getting into when you chose to become an actor.”

“It doesn’t say ‘freeze your bollocks off’ in the job description.”

Erik smirked, and then abruptly stood up, dragging Charles with him. He then picked up the blanket they’d been sitting on and wrapped it around Charles until he was a bundle of tartan.

“There you go,” Erik said, proud of his blanket-skills. Charles looked snug as a bug.

“Thank you so much,” Charles said witheringly, then added, “I’m still cold.”

Erik rolled his eyes, but went in to hug the blanket-creature, which he couldn’t even get his arms round fully. He smiled at the happy noise Charles made, but leapt away from him as if he’d been stung when he heard Emma cooing from behind him.

“Charles, Raven needs you in make-up,” she said, smiling malevolently at Erik’s glare. Unfortunately, it seemed Erik’s glare was becoming ineffectual. Or maybe just Erik couldn’t glare properly when Charles was attempting to struggle out of his cocoon of cloth and failing. Embarrassingly, Erik actually ended up having to help him out of it, to the delight of Emma.

Charles laughed it off easily, and waved goodbye as he went to make-up, while Erik resorted to stalking off with red cheeks. Emma had given him the ‘you’re-so-cute’ look, which was always damaging to Erik’s stern and professional image for himself.

The scene was filmed and finished quickly enough so that the actors’ extremities didn’t fall off from the cold, and then they were bundled back into the transport for the journey home. Erik was stuck with a full car again, but he didn’t mind. The shoot today had gone well. In fact, the whole film had been going well, bar the beginning with Shaw as Station.

Almost too well, Erik mused. But it was difficult to feel pessimistic at the end of the day, once he’d dropped Emma, Moira and Angel off and he was finally alone with Charles again. It felt so good to finally kiss Charles the way he’d wanted to all day, that Erik was inspired to drive them all the way back out to the desert highway that Charles had found so beautiful, so that they could lay on the picnic blanket, and Erik could truly warm him up. Even though it was almost 5am by the time they got back, Erik- and Charles- were undoubtedly satisfied that they did.


	9. //9

The press were let in the following days. That’s when it all crumbled. Erik had been too happy for too long; he had his two loves in life in harmony. His first love, Thorn, was going amazingly, and his first love with Charles was going amazingly. It was way too much good for one miserable human, and now one of his loves was going to pay for it.

Erik was sat in his director’s chair, finishing an interview with a young woman for a magazine that he couldn’t remember the name of.

“And my final question: Why call it _Thorn_?”

“Because our main character, Station, is a thorn on the rose of existence,” Erik said mysteriously. Then added, “Also, I initially wanted to call the movie ‘ _Fuck_ ’ but decided it was too vulgar, so I went for ‘ _Fornication_ ’. I started abbreviating it to just _Forn_ and, well, there you go.”

She laughed at the answer, thanked him for his time, and then left. Erik sat contemplating for a moment- he could see a few media people dotted around the set as people got on with their business. He saw one person interviewing Moira and Charles, and they were getting on great. It looked like the media stage was going alright so far; no disasters. There was a general buzz of excitement, probably because people knew that soon it would all be over. It was good.

Erik sighed and stood up, figuring he needed a coffee before another interview. It was tiring being polite and open, but he didn’t mind. This was for the movie.

He was just leaving when a man dressed in a sharp navy suit came over to him.

“Mr. Lehnsherr,” he greeted in a cold, clear voice.

“If you’ll excuse me for a second,” Erik dismissed him. He was on the hunt.

He made his way to the room with the coffee machine and belatedly realised the man had followed him.

“I’m taking five to have a coffee,” Erik clarified sternly, not appreciating this breach of privacy.

“My name is Janos Quested. I work for Sebastian Shaw, you know, the original lead for this movie?” Quested said patronisingly. Erik put his cup down where he’d been about to fill it.

“Yes, I’m aware. What the fuck does he want.” The tone in which Erik said this made it clear that he didn’t actually want to know what Shaw wanted, at all. But he figured Quested was going to tell him anyway.

“My client feels like he was treated unfairly; discriminated against and he wants back in.”

Erik snorted in humourless amusement. “It’s more likely he’s only now realising how good a job he left. And may I emphasise the fact _he quit_. Even if it wasn’t too late to have him back now, I wouldn’t want him. The new lead is perfect for the job, and a better person than Shaw will ever be,” Erik finished defensively. This small display of emotion caused the edges of Quested’s lips to curl meanly. Erik started to feel worried.

“Well then, you’ve left us no choice. You either financially reimburse my client for the emotional distress you’ve caused him, or we’ll take this public.”

“Take _what_ public?”

“Charles Xavier. Fresh, new actor on the block. Has a lot of promise, I think. He’s the perfect blend of talent and charm to really make it big,” Quested introduced grandiosely, to an ever paler Erik. “How unfortunate that the only reason he got this job was because he was sleeping with the director. How unfortunate that he gets dragged down with the Lehnsherr scandal: how this once up-and-coming director will only employ actors who will sleep with him, and when Sebastian Shaw refused, he fired him,” he narrated. He leaned into Erik’s face. “I have all the right contacts in the business, and I will destroy this movie, your future as a professional, and Xavier’s entire career. No one will want him after they find out how he got this job.”

The tension was heavy. Erik breathed, calculating everything that Quested had just dropped on him, while the man calmly made himself a hot drink. Shit. Erik couldn’t let this happen.

“That’s not true,” Erik said weakly. “You have no evidence, either way.” Although Erik wasn’t one hundred percent sure that his crew could or would deny that Erik and Charles were romantically involved, even if they’d tried to keep it secret. And it wasn’t like the crew would be loyal to Erik- Erik, the nasty boss who had driven Shaw to the edge, and was obviously glad to be rid of him. It wouldn’t be a far stretch for someone to think that Erik had driven Shaw away on purpose, so that he could get a ‘more willing’ actor.

Erik’s thoughts were cut short as Quested silently placed some photos on the surface in front of them. It was a picture of Erik and Charles kissing at the cafe. Erik stopped breathing as he realised he was trapped.

They wouldn’t be able to deny it. It would be a massive scandal. Erik could not live with himself if he ruined Charles’ career- he’d only just begun and this would be a major embarrassment. He’d have a reputation for being a slut, the public would never forget it. And Erik could not scar this movie. This movie was his life-

“Fine. I’ll give you the money,” Erik murmured, believing it to be the only option. The previous rage he’d felt gave in to a shameful submission. Even though it killed him to bow down to the command of the likes of Shaw, and this Quested, Erik wasn’t going to risk Charles, or the movie.

“You’ve made the right decision, Lehnsherr,” Quested congratulated him, then patted him on the back. “We’ll be in touch.”

“You forgot your photo,” Erik pointed out mechanically.

“You can keep it, we have enough copies already,” Quested sneered, as he went to leave. “Consider it a gift.”

Erik stood silently, eyes fixated on the photo. That photo would have made him smile yesterday, smile with bashfulness that someone had caught them on camera, smile at the smirk twisting Charles’ mouth, smiled at the comfortable memory of that afternoon spent with his love. But looking at the photo now was making his blood run cold, with realisation what it meant. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen this coming; it was like he’d been blind. He was a fucking idiot for sleeping with his main lead. His weakness for Charles has lost him money, and probably a lot of it, knowing Shaw. But more importantly, it had lost Erik his pride. He’d saved the tainting of his movie from the public’s perspective, but from his, the movie was bloodied. It was in Shaw’s shadow, in his dark threat, that could do so much damage.

Charles.

Erik shouldn’t be seeing Charles. It was a mistake that caused this: what else would it devastate if Erik didn’t end it now? He couldn’t look Charles in the eyes and know that he’d endangered his dream of becoming a successful actor, a dream that was so reachable. He had the skill, the looks and the personality. But such a scandal on his first role could so easily ruin him. Erik chewed his lip until he was startled by Angel calling his name.

“Boss. Boss… Erik!” she said, slightly concerned with the look Erik was giving the table. “You have three people waiting to interview.”

“Tell them to fuck off, I have work to do. Actually, tell all the press to go home, we’ve still got a few scenes to shoot today. We’ve been sat around chatting too long,” Erik said decisively. He didn’t need to think about Quested now. He needed to finish the film. He needed to finish. But not thinking about Quested didn’t make him forget the rage boiling inside him. He needed to take command, not be the schmuck that rolled over for every man in a suit that happened to threaten him.

“But we invited them for the whole day. And it’s not like they’re just chatting, everyone’s plugging the movie. Oh, I heard Charles tell one-”

“Fuck off! Tell them to fuck off. If they’re not all gone in ten minutes, on your head be it.”

Angel was shocked at first at his sudden mood swing, but then rearranged her features into blank professionalism. This was just barely a new level of moody for Erik.

Once Angel had disappeared, Erik picked up the photo, and slowly ripped it in half. Then into quarters, into eighths, and finally drowned the pieces in a cold cup of coffee.

 

For the rest of the day, he worked everyone hard. Doing scenes over and over again, making sure they were perfect. Around the twenty-fifth take of a scene at a family funeral, when even the extras were getting grouchy, Charles approached Erik.

“Hey,” he greeted, approaching him as if he were approaching a dangerous animal. That’s exactly what Erik felt like. He hadn’t even used his loudspeaker today, he’d been shouting at people furiously and loudly enough without it. “Do you think you could maybe give the crew a bit of a break? They’ve been working hard, and I know you want this scene perfect but-”

“No. Do not presume to tell me what to do with my crew, I am the boss. I’m your boss,” Erik said, smouldering. He wasn’t looking Charles in the eyes. He was adamant that Charles’ presence would not calm him like it usually did. That was what fucking got him into this mess. So instead, Charles’ presence was riling him up terribly. He loved Charles too much for this shit.

Charles looked startled at the venom in Erik’s voice, and went back to his place on set. They did several more takes until Erik decided they’d wasted enough film and told everyone to go home. As Erik stormed out, Charles caught up with him.

“Erik, what’s wrong?”

Erik stilled. Now or never. It’s now or never. He turned to Charles, still avoiding his eyes.

“We can’t see each other anymore,” Erik murmured, between clenched teeth. This was how Erik was going to protect Charles. Protect his career, and protect him from Erik. Erik, who didn’t deserve Charles, Erik, who was too nasty, angry and attracted too much trouble to keep Charles. If they broke up now, then Charles’ acting career would be safe. The movie would be safe. Eventually Charles would feel better, and Erik could continue his angry, lone existence. Except this time, he’d have an even better reason to be a fucking grumpy old man. This was punishment for Erik’s weakness.

“What? What are you talking about?” Charles whispered, confusion masking the pain in his voice.

“We can’t see each other anymore. Because,” Erik scanned the top of his thoughts for an excuse. Because he loved him too much, because if we continue like this, we’ll destroy everything, because… “because I know you’re only sleeping with me because I’m the director. Because you’d sleep with all your directors.” That was the rumour Quested would spread, that’s what would be in the headlines of the tabloids. That was a horrible reason for Erik to leave Charles, but he couldn’t change it now. At least it meant Charles wouldn’t want him back.

“You don’t trust me?” Charles asked quietly. Charles had backed off slightly. He obviously wanted to give Erik some space considering how furious he had been all day.

For a second, Erik’s shield broke. The pain in Charles’ voice caused him to involuntarily shake his head, and look into Charles’ eyes. Erik was such a fucking dick.

“I’m sorry,” Erik’s voice broke on the apology, and then he made his leave. If he stayed any longer he’d totally crumble, and hug Charles and tell him the truth, and it would just cause more damage. Giving in to weakness.

But Erik didn’t give himself another chance to give in. Later, when a knocking came on his trailer door, he shouted at them to piss off. And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thankyou for reading so far!!


	10. 10

Two more tumultuous, terrible days Erik endured of filming, and a forced silence with Charles. Erik was calmer now, sadder, but not so angry. Charles didn’t push for anything. Charles probably hated Erik’s guts right about now (although hate was never an emotion that suited Charles).

The third day was the last day of filming and the wrap party. Morale had been very low, what with Erik being back to yelling at the crew all the time, and Charles in a sad and quiet mood, but the wrap party somehow managed to get most people smiling and laughing again. It was difficult not to: this was the last time many of them would see each other, at least until the film festival which was six months later.

Erik skulked around the edge of the wrap party, and let himself unwind, slightly. He had two glasses of champagne, and even allowed himself a curl of excitement once, at the realisation that they were even closer to finishing the movie. But that was short lived, as thinking of that lead him to thoughts of Shaw and Quested.

Charles was steering clear of Erik, but occasionally he caught Charles staring at him. Erik didn’t look long enough to find out what kind of stare it was. He didn’t even know what kind of stare he wanted it to be.

After another drink or two, Erik finally felt ready to give the necessary wrap-speech. He had written one a week ago, which was too long and emotional and praising for Erik to read now, but he did use a couple of sentences from it. Because the crew had done well, despite Erik’s shouting. And the movie was going to be great, despite the tainting. But they didn’t know about that.

“So, a toast to you. I invite you all to drink yourselves silly, because you deserve it. Except you, editors, who I expect to see bright and early tomorrow morning, and every morning after that for another several months,” Erik finished. This was met with a groan from the select few editors he had there, and a chuckle from the rest of the crew. The party recommenced, and Erik drained his fifth glass, then stalked to his office, to look up some schedules he needed.

There was a knock at the door, and Erik turned around expecting Charles. His heart rate slowed slightly when he realised it was Emma. She entered, and shut the door behind her.

“It’s you. What do you want?” Erik asked, but without venom for once. He was mostly weary.

“You need to tell me what happened,” Emma demanded.

Erik gulped.

It may have been the alcohol, it may have been Emma’s stubbornness, but it was probably the fact that Erik really needed a friend right now. He gave in and told Emma everything that had happened between him and Quested, and then how he’d dumped Charles, and how he regretted the way in which he broke up with Charles, but did not regret doing it. He was adamant that it was his only choice.

Emma listened, getting angrier and angrier. Once Erik was finished, though, her voice was even as she spoke.

“This is imbecilic, Erik. Not to mention the fact that it stinks, and is probably somehow illegal. Least of all, you didn’t have to break up with Charles. You’re both heartbroken.”

“I had to protect his career,” Erik said, his voice gravelly.  
“Charles doesn’t need your protection, Erik, don’t you see? He’s intelligent: education-wise and street-wise. He can look after himself-”

“He is. And he can. But I needed to at least help.”

It felt semi-good to finally get it all off his chest. Emma talked to him for a few more minutes until he decided it was time to leave. He told her he’d see her the next morning, and then left.

It had been cathartic, but Emma’s words had almost given Erik hope that he could return to Charles. But he knew he couldn’t-

‘Every moment of resistance to temptation is a victory,’ he thought to himself on the drive home. It had been something that his old religion teacher used to say in school.

He could almost hear the response that Charles would have to that.

‘The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it’.

 

* * *

 

  
_The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful._

_Oscar Wilde_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for shortness.. sorry for angst?? thank you so much for reading so far :))


	11. :(

The next morning, he comes in, barely even hungover. Today they were going to be showing the current edit of the film to a group of people who hadn’t seen it before, and get feedback. Erik was almost worried.

He made a few last minute changes, and then found a seat in between the select members of public to watch it. Except he’d kind of forgotten that this was a film starring Charles. The opening scene was Charles masturbating. He froze as Charles’ groans filled his ears. Then he heard the woman next to him whisper to her friend a crude remark about how she was liking this film already.

Erik decided it was too soon to do this and stepped out. He went and made himself a coffee, busying himself with some necessary correspondence while the film played out.

Once it ended, the editors poured over the feedback sheets and started making notes. Erik held back a bit, and asked for the general outcome.

“S’generally good- some people think there’s too much talking… they seemed to love the end scene, but there’s some confusion about who Moira’s character is in the beginning, so I think we could rearrange some dialogue to sort that out.”

Erik nodded along to the feedback.

“Oh, also the dubbing to Station’s ‘making love’ scene is a bit raw, so I’ll have to sort that out-”

“No. You idiot, it’s supposed to sound raw,” Erik snapped.

“Raw as in you can hear the mic crackle slightly?”

Erik’s glare burned into the man.

“Oka-a-y, let’s take a walk, Erik,” Emma intervened. She’d come by to say something to Erik when she’d seen the murder in his eyes and decided to save the unfortunate editor from a grisly death. “You need to chill, honey,” Emma said, once they were out of earshot.

“He’s trying to ruin perfection,” Erik spat.

Emma stopped walking and placed her hands on Erik’s shoulders.

“Lehnsherr. You’re too highly-strung right now. Even more than usual. I think you need to take a bit of time off,” she advised with wisdom. “Not long, just enough to clear your head,” she added as Erik started to retort angrily. “I’ll monitor the editing, make sure the changes aren’t too big. Angel’l help me. Between us, I’m sure we can manage for a little while.”

Erik considered it. It was only the first day of editing and he already felt crazy. Emma might be right about this- he needed some time away from the movie, and especially away from the image of Charles. Somehow, watching Charles on screen was even worse than having him there in person.

Erik slowly nodded, to the gentle smile of Emma. She knew how much this meant to Erik, and recognised that this was a big step him giving it up for a bit. But he immediately felt a little weight off his chest.

“Oh, also, before you leave, I’ve been thinking about Shaw-gate.”

This wound Erik straight back up again, but Emma powered on despite Erik’s obvious tension.

“You’re an idiot for not hiring a lawyer when you were supposed to, like three years ago, but luckily for you, one of the crew has a degree in law, so we won’t need to spend thousands of dollars on a stranger.”

“Who?” Erik asked, intrigued. Emma smiled, knowing Erik would like this.

“Raven.”

“Raven… the make-up girl?” he asked. He actually smiled a bit at that, despite the circumstances. The make-up girl with a law degree. Quite fascinating. Unexpected, just like a pretty actor with a degree in biology… well that dampened Erik’s mood again. Everything had to remind him of Charles fucking Xavier.

“Look, just trust me. We’re going to sort this out. Go home, rest your mind, come back with that scary grin you get when you’re onto something, please. I never thought I’d actually miss that grin.”

Erik nodded solemnly at the order, and thanked Emma. He was going home to do some thinking.

 

.

 

But it turned out thinking was perhaps the worst thing for Erik at that moment.

Erik put himself in solitary confinement for four days. His thoughts were concentrated inside his head until they stung his skull. If he’d been in a slightly saner place of mind, maybe he’d’ve realised he needed somebody to share his feelings with, but he couldn’t allow himself that luxury. Because he’d broke up with Charles, and now he couldn’t have anyone else. No one would mean as much to Erik as Charles. Charles was probably Erik’s _one._ But fate had driven an iron wedge between them.

He laid on his sofa. (The sofa where he and Charles had first made love).

He sat in the kitchen. (Where he’d made Charles his best food).

He listened to the clock tick tock. (The grandmothers clock).

He lost Charles to save Charles.

Forty-five hours into his time in solitary, he got a phone call from a number he didn’t recognise. He assumed it would be something about _Thorn_. An editor, or a member of the press perhaps. Whatever it was, he decided to leave it. By the fifth time they called in a row though, Erik decided to answer the damned thing.

“Mr. Lehnsherr. How are you?”

It was the cold voice that had brought about Erik’s personal apocalypse.

“Quested. What do you want.” Erik couldn’t even bring about enough energy to add a swear in there. The conversation had drained him before it’d even begun.

“Just calling to set up our meeting. How’s two days after the film festival?”

Erik knew why he wanted to meet after the festival. It was so they could extort as much money as possible, by then they’d know if they’d caught the eye of a big distributor or not.

“Fine.” As Quested started thanking him for his cooperation in a snide voice, Erik hung up. He didn’t need to listen to that.

So his mood was even fouler now, thanks to that scum bag. But also, it was done. He wouldn’t need to talk to them for months. He could even pretend that they didn’t exist until then.

It was good, having cut out the responsibility of talking to them. He didn’t want to talk to them. He didn’t want to talk to anyone.

On the evening of the fourth day, he phoned Emma. Luckily, he got her voicemail.

“It’s me. I’d like you and Angel to officially take over the editing from here on in. I’ve been thinking, and I decided that I’ve had too much control over the film already. It’s time for a fresh pair of eyes. If I come in, I’ll just ruin the evolutionary process of editing by wanting it to all stay the same. Good luck, I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

And then Erik stopped answering all calls.

He let himself sit in his apartment, surviving on coffee and take-out food, not bothering to wash that much, or even get dressed a lot of the time.

He’d been through periods like this before, possibly a side-effect of being a constantly angry, highly-strung perfectionist, but this dip seemed worse than ever.

It took a few weeks more of squalor for Erik to get back to showering regularly, and even then, he still didn’t answer his calls. He wouldn’t check to see who was calling either.

Occasionally he was tempted to google Charles’ name to see how he was doing, whether he was doing any interviews. Sometimes he wanted to check the _Thorn_ website to see if there was any new stuff on that, or to see how many views the trailer had on YouTube. But most of the time he could resist.

Resisting and cutting himself off from the world was doing him worse than good, though.

He had even stopped reading the weekly newspaper he had delivered to him after seeing an advertisement for the final _Hunger Games_ movie. He could remember sitting in his car, hand entwined with Charles’, discovering their love for that movie. How they both preferred Peeta to Gale, and arguing over whether the first movie or the second movie was the best. He could remember them arranging to watch the final movie together. He’d had no doubt in his mind back then that they’d still be together now. Because he loved Charles, and he had become part of his life. Now he was adjusting to life without him, and without the movie.

So he stopped reading the newspaper. He was putting off anything and everything.

But the more he put it off, the more difficult it was for him to get back on his feet. Erik knew that it was an endless cycle of misery, and that he needed to do something. So one evening, he made a punishing decision.

He put on his jumper, got his car keys and left the house for the first time in many weeks. He was going to go to a coffee shop.

He and Charles had visited just about every coffee place in their area while dating. Erik had to decide which one to go to. There was Ann’s coffee, where he’d first met Charles sober, there was A Lusty Brew, Charles’ favourite place in the world, and there was a Starbucks, which happened to be the last coffee place they’d been together. Then there was everything inbetween.

Erik finally decided to go to a slightly neutral ground- an espresso bar that he and Charles had been a few times. Charles had known the owner, which was great for Erik, because it meant that he could occasionally get a free shot. He definitely would not get one today.

He slowly walked to the door. The smell of strong coffee drifted pleasantly from inside and made Erik’s stomach squirm slightly. If it was the usual waiter, he might ask Erik where Charles was. Maybe it would be good to tell him that they’d broken up. It might make it more real.

But as soon as Erik stepped inside, he stepped right back out, then hid behind a pillar.

Fucking Charles was in there. He was the fucking waiter. He must’ve got a job in there while waiting for his next acting one. Fuck.

Erik peeked round to get another look at him. Charles was serving a customer with a smile, but not his usual smile. His smile was weary and sad, and he had dark shadows under his eyes. Somehow, though, he still managed to  look amazing and kissable, and friendly and wonderful, as he went off to get the order.

In or out, Lehnsherr. Erik attempted to be stern with himself. He could go in. He’d order an espresso. Charles would serve him, and Erik would act surprised to see him. He’d remark how it was an awkward situation, and that would be that. Erik would be cured from then on.

Or, he’d go in, Charles would see him, then tell the manager, and then Erik would get chucked out for hurting Charles, the sweetest person in the world. And Erik would deserve it. It would be a healing thing to get punished.

...Or he’d go in, Charles would see him, and say Erik’s name softly, and Erik would be crying uncontrollably and begging to have Charles back. He couldn’t go in.

So Erik had to leave. Just walk down the street like a normal human being, and in two minutes he’d be at another coffee bar. If Erik’s memory served him correctly, it would be a place that Charles hated because their hot chocolates tasted like dirt. So Erik would do that. Walk away, fix himself in a different place. And then he ran.

He sprinted down the street, down the block until he reached the nearest park. His lungs were burning by the time he reached a small fountain, and he collapsed onto the edge. His head was filled with him gasping to catch his breath.

As soon as the burning went down a bit, he got up and started running around the park. He must’ve looked like a complete idiot, wearing a turtleneck black jumper and jogging furiously, but he didn’t care. It was the only thing that he could do. And every step cleared his head.

Erik had let himself go. The feeling of liberation, from his apartment and from himself, coupled with seeing Charles had snapped something inside him.

He was going to pull himself back together in time for the film festival, he thought to himself as he gradually slowed down to a jog. It was in Utah and it was next month. By then, he will be fine.

He will be fine, Charles will be fine, the movie will be a success.

He’ll see Emma, and Angel, and Moira and Charles and everyone at the festival, he will see the film for the first time, as the public get to see it, and it will be fine.

Less than a month was enough time for Erik to get back to sanity.

When he goes, he won’t shout at people, he won’t snap, or spit or growl. He’ll even smile and thank people for their help with his dream. He stopped running.

He could do this.

And Erik believed himself for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nearing the end c: boop


	12. 12

He arrived at the film festival halfway into the day. He signed in, the girl at the desk surprised to see him.

“Everyone else from _Thorn_ has already signed in, you’re the last one Mr. Lehnsherr,” she told him as she handed over the schedule. He shrugged laconically and smiled. He was at the film festival.

The girl gestured to the booklet she’d given him and briefly explained it. _Thorn_ was going to be playing at 6:30pm. Erik felt a shoot of pride in Emma for haggling for such a nice time slot. That was in three and a half hours, and in two hours, Erik was due in the Orange Room for interviews and press, and then a walk down the ‘red’ carpet. After that, he’d finally get to see the film premiere.

He thanked the girl, and then left to explore for a little while. Every time he saw a poster for his film, his eyes lit up and his stomach dropped slightly, not only because it was _his_ film and it looked great, but because Charles was on there, and _he_ looked great. It gave Erik a slightly ethereal feeling, but he was also unnumbed. From his time in solitude, this finally felt like real life. Or even more than real life. He’d been waiting for this day for years, really.

Finally, it was time for him to slowly make his way to the Orange Room. He began to feel slightly thrilled, as if he were at a theme park. On the way, he heard a familiar voice practically shriek his name.

“Erik Fucking Lehnsherr,” Emma repeated once she had barged her way through the throngs of people.

“Emma, how are you?” Erik asked, glad to see his old friend, and also partly attempting to filter her anger with pleasantries.

“Oh, I’m amazing, sugar, but how are you? You look terrible...”

“I don’t feel terrible,” Erik murmured.

“Mind you, Charles doesn’t look much better. I could kill you,” she said quickly moving on, giving Erik no choice but to listen to her as they walked. “I actually should kill you, I should be killing you right now. Why the hell haven’t you been answering anyone’s calls?”

“Because I trusted you would do an amazing job on the film without me. And I was right to trust you- I saw an article about the film in yesterday’s paper, you’ve done so well with the pub,” Erik said earnestly.

The uncharacteristic praise caught Emma off guard, and she struggled to find words for a second. Erik was pleased that he’d said it though: having been cut off from the filming process for so long had made him more appreciative of the work his friends did to help him achieve his dream movie. He’d never had such a long break from it, and it had made him realise actually how lucky he was to have his crew. It was humbling.

“Wow… thanks, Lehnsherr. But no, don’t distract me, I have something very important to tell you.”

“Ok, I’m listening.”

“Raven. Raven the _lawyer_ and I have sorted it, with Shaw’s people,” she began, smiling with a vengeful gleam in her eye. “You don’t need to give them any money.”

Erik stared at her blankly for a second before asking “Why? How?”, barely able to comprehend.

“It’s a breach of your rights to slander you and Charles for this, seeing as it’s nowhere near the truth. Plus, no one likes people slandering homosexual couples, it’s just not PC, and it would probably end up doing more damage to Shaw’s enterprise than yours.”

“That… seems too easy,” Erik said slowly. He’d come to accept Shaw taking money from the movie as a necessary evil, but it was all changing.

“Oh, that’s not the end of it sweetie. You know I don’t fight clean. They were still threatening us after we told them this, so we bugged Quested’s office and recorded some pr-e-tty illegal stuff. I don’t think they’ll be bothering you again, or we’ll be releasing those tapes. Not to the public this time, but to the police.” Emma looked fondly at Erik who was mentally sifting through this new information. He must’ve looked vulnerable for a second, because Emma put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s definitely not perfect, and we’ll probably have to sort something more permanent out at a later date to really destroy Shaw, but it’s solid for now, sweetie. You’re out of the deal,” she assured him.

This was great news. This was such great news- it didn’t matter that Shaw was still lurking around at the moment, Erik didn’t even want to know what antics he got up to in his spare time. All that mattered was that the movie wasn’t in danger. It was untainted! and it meant that Charles-

“Thank you, Emma. You have no idea-” Erik begun but Emma cut him off swiftly before he could finish his thanks.

“Back to me killing you, Lehnsherr. You’re not off the hook. You were a dick to the crew over the last few days of filming. Understandable, that’s part of your nature. But you were a massive dick to Charles. Contrary to your beliefs, he doesn’t need your protection. He can handle himself, possibly even better than you, it seems. He has his own contacts in the ‘biz’, and you know how sweet and charming he is. Even if Quested had got that slander to the press, the interviewers would love him far too much to turn against him,” she explained, the words slapping Erik in the face.

“I- you’re right. Oh fuck, you’re right. I’m such a fucking idiot. What do I do,” he said, more of a statement than a question as he was not usually one to ask others for advice. He’d fucked everything up so much, and actually admitting that he was in the wrong was kind of new territory for him. Emma had an answer ready anyway.

“You’re not his boss anymore. You’re totally in the clear from slander and sabotage. You need to go talk to him, Erik,” she said softly. By now, the two of them were being ushered in through corridors to get to the correct group dressing room. “Neither of you have been doing great without each other. You can be together.”

They were in a large white tent-like room now, with mirrors covering two of the walls, and the cast and crew of _Thorn_ spread out in it.

Emma continued speaking, but Erik stopped listening. He’d heard what he needed to hear: Charles and Erik could be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gunna publish the last chapter tmrw!!!! as always, thank you for reading !!!!!!!


	13. fin

Charles was wearing his stupidly old-mannish knitted cardigan, his hair had grown almost to his shoulders, and his face was adorned with a stubble Erik had never seen him with before. He was stood on his own, hand in his pocket, and was managing to pull off a forlorn-model look- ridiculously good looking, but sad.

He was the best thing Erik had ever seen.

When Charles’ eyes met Erik’s, he found himself striding over to the actor before he could stop himself, or even think about what he was doing.

Maybe if it was some other time, Erik could’ve resisted, resisted the emotional drama he was about to cause, but he needed to hold Charles like he needed to breathe. He was high on emotion, on not being under Shaw’s thumb anymore, high on solitude, and he needed to at least attempt to wipe the sadness from Charles’ face. It was too tempting when Charles was so close, physically and figuratively. He’d been resisting Charles for six months now, and giving into this felt so good.

Erik pulled Charles into a bone crunching hug, head over his shoulder. The general chatter of the crew went into a stilted silence- they were all watching now, but Erik didn’t care. As far as Erik was concerned for the moment, it was just Charles and him.

Slightly surprisingly, Charles didn’t pull away. He stilled for a couple of seconds, before speaking in a guarded tone, which was slightly muffled by the mass of Erik wrapped around him.

“What. What are you-”

Erik pulled back sharply. The uncertainty in his voice was so painful to Erik’s ears, Charles who was usually so sure of himself. He had to make things right again. “Fucking hell bollocks shit I am so, so sorry Charles,” he began, causing Charles’ eyebrows to raise, but that was the only emotion he let show now. Erik only just managed to stop himself getting to his knees to grovel. “I’m so sorry I left you in the dark, _mein schatz_. I left you because I thought I had to protect you. They were going to ruin your career, and I couldn’t let that happen, I couldn’t let them destroy you, and I knew that if I told you the truth then you’d fight it, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said when I broke up with you, and I understand if you never want to know me again, I’m a nasty git grumpy face who makes bad decisions and is overprotective and anal and I never tell people how amazing they actually are-”

Charles was totally stunned into silence, while Erik continued. His voice was wavering with emotion, but in a weird sense, he’d never felt more sure of what he was saying. The crew remained silent too, and as Erik took a few shaky breaths, he was semi-aware of a member of staff saying that they had two minutes until the press were to arrive. He thought the guy stayed to watch but he didn’t check, more preoccupied with other things at that particular moment.

“And shit, I need to tell people how amazing they are. I have the best crew I could ever ask for, and you’ve all been wonderful,” Erik said, turning and actually addressing the crew, seeing as they were all listening in anyway. “I could never have done this without you all, and I never say these things because I can’t, I’m an idiot and… I’ve fucked it up again shit, I should leave,” he finished, the eyes of his crew having a suddenly sobering effect. He had just spilled his guts to the entire cast and crew of _Thor_ n, and whoever else was listening. Fucking hell. But he couldn’t leave, not yet. He turned back to Charles and waited for something, whether it was a kiss on the lips or a punch in the face, or both, he needed to know Charles’ reaction.

The chilling silence lingered for one more second, then Charles broke it when he smiled sadly and reached up to rest a hand gently on Erik’s cheek.

“You’re a stubborn old fool, prone to pig-headedness and you should’ve told me. Luckily, you’re surrounded by friends, and Emma told me the Shaw-situation just a few days after you… well, yes. You’re an idiot… but I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing, in your position, to protect you. You mean a lot to me. But then again, I may have been sensible and actually answered the million and one flipping calls you got,” Charles said softly. Erik smiled guiltily, still watching Charles’ face carefully. He sighed before he continued. Not a sorrowful-sigh, more like taking a bracing breath. Erik’s heart stuttered hopefully. “Erik. You have hurt me. But- I want you back.”

Charles almost didn’t finish his sentence as Erik pulled him into a big kiss.

“Thank fuck, I love you so much,” Erik said honestly, before backtracking. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that, was that inappropriate, I-” his muttering was cut off by a smattering of applause and ‘aw’s from the onlooking crowd, which Erik realised, once he’d turned around, had grown in size considerably. Not only that, but a few cameras had filmed that exchange. But Erik couldn’t even get himself to care. He was actually beaming. He was still beaming by the time that they were all marched out onto the carpet. After sharing one more quick kiss with Charles, he finally (reluctantly) let go of his hand, and then they spread out to give quick interviews about the film they were about to see. The exuberance built, as Erik answered questions about _Thorn_ , had pictures taken, and asked about the exchange he’d just shared with Charles, to which he just smiled and avoided answering.

At 6:30pm on the dot, they filed into the front row, Erik between Charles and Emma, and the lights went down. He laid his hand down on the armrest to take Charles’, and then as the credits opened, he did the same on Emma’s side. She gave him an encouraging squeeze when Erik’s name spread large across the screen.

The film was everything Erik had wanted it to be. No, it was more. It was the first time he’d seen it put together like this, and knowing that everyone else was seeing it too made him feel slightly giddy. Getting towards the end, he found himself enjoying the moment so much that he almost cried. He maybe, possibly, actually did cry, but he excused himself on the fact that it had been a very emotional day, alright?

He at least wiped the tears from his eyes before the lights came back on, to a big round of applause. The next hour was a whirl of shaking hands and talking movie talk with other directors at the festival, and finally, it was time for the party. Once the party was over, they’d get to go home. They’d return to real life, and Erik thought that was probably a good thing.

They were sat at a large round table, but Erik scooted his chair so that he was facing just Charles. It was the best privacy he was going to get for now, but honestly, they were used to it.

“Charles, should we talk?” Erik asked, determined not to make another wrong move with him.

“We should, but not now. Let’s enjoy the night, and talk about things in the morning, ok?” Charles suggested. For a second, that sentence worried Erik. But then Charles added something else. “Oh, and I love you too. Did I forget to say that?”

It was going to be alright.

“Love birds! Don’t look now, but Alex Summers and Armando Muños are coming your way.”

Charles gasped excitedly at this, but Erik just looked confused.

“Summers and Muños? They’re the distributors we’ve been trying to get a deal with?” Emma said slowly, waiting for Erik to have his moment of realisation

“Oh… yeah, those guys,” he said unsurely.

“You really are out of the loop. Luckily, you have a real _lawyer_ now, so-” Emma was cut off when a shadow fell across the table, and Erik swivelled towards the two men with his business-smile.

“Hi, I’m Alex, this is Armando. It’s great to finally meet you, Mr. Lehnsherr. We were wondering if you’d like to come and talk to us for a couple of minutes?”

Erik complied, dragging Raven with him at the last minute on Emma’s command. The four of them went to sit at an empty table.

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase. The movie was beautiful. And at the moment we’re doing an equality and diversity scheme for our company-”Armando began.

“You are gay. And from a working class background. _And_ your movie deals graciously with issues on sexuality, religion and gender. It’s great.”

“Also all that stuff from the dressing room earlier? The raw gratitude to your crew, the desperate declaration of love. It really looks like this movie has been a real emotional journey for you, Lehnsherr. Your commentary is going to be book-deal worthy if you do it right.”

“What we’re saying is, we’d like to offer you a deal. Nothing official yet, but we just thought you ought to know. You’ve done a great job,” Alex finished.

Erik thanked them gratefully, and then Raven started making meetings and appointments with them, effectively dismissing Erik, who didn’t really mind. _Thorn_ had distributors!

Erik had rocketed off the face of the Earth. He was in the stratosphere. He half-stumbled back over to where Charles was waiting for him, and collapsed into the seat.

“We’ve got a deal. We’ve got a distributor. We’re done,” he said, saying the words bringing about the reality easier.

“Well done, darling. Now how about the-”

“No, don’t be cheesy,” Erik stopped Charles before he could finish that sentence.

“After your totally-cheesy speech, in front of the cameras no less, I’m not allowed one last cheesy line?” Charles asked disbelievingly. Then he put on the puppy-dog eyes at Erik, and Erik relented quickly.

“Ok, ok. Go ahead,” he said, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Thank you,” Charles said before clearing his throat. “Now, how about the sequel?”

  
_*credits roll*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, commenting, kudosing, bookmarking and subscribing, it means a lot!  
> This has been sooo much fun to write! While writing this I listened to the Frank soundtrack a lot, researched lots about the indie film industry, and drank a load of coffee haha so yeah, it's defo been so enjoyable.  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so please leave a comment if you want to :)


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